Mixing it Up
by jespah
Summary: Aliens take center stage!
1. 1-The Reptile Speaks

What happens when you like someone who's different?

I mean, _really_ different.

 _Star Trek  
_

_The Reptile Speaks_

A Star Trek Fan Fiction By  
J. R. Gershen-Siegel

 **P  
G-13- Parents Strongly Cautioned**

Some material may be not be appropriate

for children under 13

 **This is a fan written work**

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First pdf online edition MM/DD/YYYY

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. .LStok

"I tell you, Etrina is a sure thing," Skrol said, his glittery eyes looking out the window of their High School dorm room.

"I – a what?" asked Bron.

"You heard me."

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"You and Etrina, me and Tr'Dorna – it's perfect! I mean, they're Xindi Reptilians. They are the closest to Gorn girls we're going to get here at Picard High School." Skrol pointed out.

"I suppose so."

"So you know what the rules are. It's the Sadie Hawkins Dance. All of the messages for one week before are anonymous if you use the right code, up to five such messages. And so all of us guys are supposed to write to the girls and we make our cases. You're not supposed to identify yourself in any way," Skrol explained.

"Yeah, I know," Bron said, a tad annoyed.

"And the girls pick whoever they want to go with!"

"Right. And of course everyone should be nice, because the messages stop being anonymous the day after the dance," Bron pointed out.

"Our ancestors were not nice guys. And I don't think Etrina is expecting _that_ nice – if you know what I mean," Skrol dug a claw into Bron's ribs.

"I don't know."

"Don't tell me you don't like girls."

"I like girls plenty," Bron said.

"Well, you can't have Tr'Dorna."

"That's okay. You and Tr'Dorna look good together."

"You really think so? I like her teeth. She has the best teeth," Skrol said.

Bron laughed. "Good thing she's not Ferengi then."

"Yep. So you'll write to Etrina, okay?" Skrol stared at his roommate for a second. "She's the only logical choice."

"Now you sound like a Vulcan."

"Don't tell me you like one of the _mammals_ ," Skrol shuddered.

"It's, just …."

" _You do_! In the name of all that's cold blooded, whatever would possess you to try to go out with a _warmie_?"

"Don't use that word," Bron said.

"I'll use whatever words I want. Look, I know Etrina and Tr'Dorna aren't Gorn, but they're pretty close. And they are fun girls. C'mon, you'll have a good time, and you'll forget all about the _warmie_."

"Skrol, I can't just spend time with Etrina if I don't, if I don't feel anything for her."

"I'm not asking you to _marry_ her. Just, will ya at least distract her while me and Tr'Dorna, uh, _you know_."

"So go to the dance by yourselves. You don't need me for that."

"No, no, if Etrina doesn't have a date, Tr'Dorna will get all upset and will want her to come along, and then my chances of seeing her tail are gonna be totally blown! Help a fellow scaly out, okay?"

"Skrol …."

" _Please_? I'll be your best friend."

"You already _are_ my best friend."

"See? That was easy," Skrol laughed.

"Let me think about it," Bron said.

=/\=

"Have you gotten any invitations yet?" Ylinka asked as she primped in front of a mirror. Brown hair, _just so_. Grey skin, a lovely, ashy shade, framing dark eyes. She smiled at her own reflection.

"Nothing yet," Sophra said, "just the usual weekly letter from my Mom on Cardassia."

"How are things at home?"

"Pretty good," Sophra said, "my little brother is learning to read music." She was darker and shorter than Ylinka. "Have you gotten any notes for the Sadie Hawkins Dance?"

"Two," Ylinka said, "I think everyone's waiting for the last minute. I'm kinda glad the rule is that a fellow can only send out a total of five notes. I'd hate to pick someone who was just hedging his bets, and writing to all of us."

Sophra smiled. "Is there anyone you hope against all hope writes to you?"

"No. You?"

"I – no, not really. I mainly just want a good note, from someone who seems to care."

"What if he's hideous?" Ylinka asked.

"Only caring about appearances is shallow, don't you think?"

"C'mon, Sophra! You're eighteen years old! If now's not the time to be shallow, then I don't know when is!"

Sophra laughed. "I guess I just want kindness."

"And kisses from someone who's wonderful! Am I right! It's _normal_ , Sophra!"

=/\=

"Look, there's a note for me!" Etrina exclaimed.

"What's it say?" asked Tr'Dorna.

"It says, ahem: ' _I hope you'll go to the Sadie Hawkins Dance with me_ '. Well, that's kinda dull."

"It's straightforward at least. I bet it's from a Vulcan," Tr'Dorna said.

"You think so? Should I answer it?"

"Maybe wait a little while. See if you get any better offers."

"Maybe I won't get any other offers," Etrina said.

"Oh, you will! Look at how pretty your scales are! You practically glimmer with health."

"You're too kind. Are you going with Skrol?"

"I'll meet him there, yes. It's already settled," Tr'Dorna said, "And if he's really good, I'll let him see my tail."

"Oh, Tr'Dorna, you're so wicked!"

=/\=

"I forgot to ask if you were set," Bron said.

"Oh, yeah, totally," Skrol said, "I'm going to get Tr'Dorna a tiger lily wrist corsage. It'll bring out her eyes. But it's, uh, not her eyes I wanna see, if yanno what I mean."

"Skrol!"

"C'mon, Bron! That's the mission! I'm gonna see that tail of hers."

"Gawd."

"Listen," Skrol said, "the _warmies_ don't have tails. At least, not the kinds I know about. And lemme tell ya, there is nothing like a scaly tail."

"I'll take your word for it."

"You see it, you touch it, she flips it up and, well, I don't have to tell you the facts of life," Skrol said.

"'Course not. We had a movie on that, don't you remember?" Bron asked.

Skrol laughed. "Of course!" He faked a British accent and intoned, " _And now we come to the interspecies sexuality part of the Health lesson_."

Bron picked up the narrative, also doing his best to fake the accent. " _Most bipedal species have similar genitals. Males tend to have external appendages, whereas females have openings. A notable exception are the Imvari._ "

"Ha, yeah!" Skrol then picked up the narrative, " _And coitus_ – who talks like that anymore? – _coitus is achieved in the position that is most comfortable and satisfactory to all partners. For most interspecies relations, a birth control shot is unnecessary, as fertilization cannot occur without extensive medical intervention_."

" _A notable exception_ ," Bron laughed, " _is human-Xryllian relations, which may be achieved through hand-to-hand contact. In 2151, Chief Engineer Charles Tucker III became pregnant as a result of hand-to-hand contact with a Xryllian female named Ah'Len. Therefore_ ," he giggled a little, " _a birth control shot is highly recommended prior to holding hands with a Xryllian_."

" _Students are also cautioned_ ," Skrol continued, " _to carefully consider their choice of partners, as some species, such as the Calafans, can pair bond rather strongly, and break ups can become awkward_."

" _Awkward_ , there's a word for it," Bron said, no longer faking the British accent and getting serious again.

"Good thing Xindi Reptilian girls don't pair bond quite so easily."

"Do, uh, do you think you need to get the birth control shot with, uh, with Tr'Dorna?"

"Hmm, that's probably a good idea," Skrol said, "if you, uh, if you've still got your heart set on a _warmie_ , well, you can probably pass on the shot. But there's still no tail! I don't see how a Gorn can get aroused without the sight of a scaly tail."

"It's, uh, it's not like that," Bron said.

"Holy cow, you got it _bad_ ," Skrol sighed, "I guess you're not gonna write to Etrina, eh?"

"I'd rather not lead her on."

"Well, do me a favor, all right? If your _warmie_ , uh, friend, doesn't come through, at least dance with Etrina a little. Okay?"

"Okay," Bron said, "I'll make sure she's not alone."

"Maybe she'll show you her tail, eh?"

" _Skrol_!"

=/\=

"The dance is tonight! I'm so excited!" Ylinka exclaimed.

"Which one did you pick?" Sophra asked.

"This one," she showed Sophra on her PADD. "He's Ikaaran."

"Nice. I like the notched nose."

"How about you, Sophra?"

"I've gotten a few notes, but nothing really _speaks_ to me."

"You'd better act quickly."

There was a low-volume chime. "Hmm," Sophra said, reading.

=/\=

"Oh, gawd, my stomach is in knots," Bron said.

"You sent the note, finally?" Skrol asked.

"I did."

"I meant to tell you, Etrina has a date. He's one of the Witannen guys."

"Oh. Good for her," Bron said.

"I'm gonna see a tail tonight!" Skrol sang, smiling at his reflection in the room's little mirror. "Think my teeth look okay?"

"Very shiny."

"Good. That's the effect I was going for. Ready?"

"Almost." Bron checked his PADD. There was one short message that he hadn't seen before. Swallowing hard, he opened it. It was just one word: _yes_.

"You okay?"

"I, uh, oh my God. Do my teeth look okay?" Bron asked.

=/\=

The dance was held in the gym and the place was packed. But, for the most part, no one was actually dancing. They were all just staring at each other.

"You'd think we'd all be closer together, given the elaborate way we all communicated this past week!" Tr'Dorna complained to Etrina. Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw Skrol.

"Heya, baby," he said, and then gave her the corsage, "your teeth look great."

"Well, thanks," she smiled, teeth white and sharp and shining – definitely her best feature.

"Bron's here looking out for a _warmie_ , uh, friend."

" _Warmie_? Whatever would possess you to want one? Their teeth are so dull," Tr'Dorna said.

"Isn't Etrina's date warm blooded?" Bron asked.

"Well, yeah, I guess so," Tr'Dorna allowed.

And then Bron saw her. She was standing by herself. He cautiously circled nearby, unsure if he wanted her to see him. He was looking the other way when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He wheeled around, quickly. "Sophra!" he squeaked out.

"Did you write that poem, or did you copy it from a book?" she asked.

"I, I wrote it." He looked down and became acutely aware that they were right in the middle of the empty dance floor and that everybody in Picard High School was staring at them.

"Prove it. Uh, please," she said.

"H-how?"

"By reciting it," she said.

"Um, all right," he said. He started off almost whispering, but found his voice and finished off louder.

" _It's the middle of the day_

 _And yet the sun is drawing in_

 _It's a silvery, misty, pearly grey_

 _That matches the color of her skin._

 _The raven blackness of her hair_

 _The brightness of her eye_

 _And I can only stand and stare_

 _For I am far too shy._

 _I worship her and so I wonder_

 _Does the shadow lady mind?_

 _My heart beats louder than any thunder_

 _Will she be cruel? Will she be kind?_

 _I hope your heart will open wide_

 _And let me be your shadow, and stay by your side."_

He paused for a second. "And, um, that's it."

Sophra smiled at him. "It's beautiful. But shadows usually go behind a person. Why would you want to go behind?"

Bron knew that Skrol would have said _to check for your tail_ , but Bron wasn't that kind of a guy. "Um, I just, I don't know if you would want to be, to be seen with, with a guy like me." He looked down, remembering that everyone was still staring. He could feel the scales standing up on the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Don't you like the middle of the day?" she asked, "when the sun is high up and shadows are close to people? I know that's the time that I like the best. When the shadow is right there, touching."

His head shaking a little, he looked up cautiously. Her eyes were so dark, so pretty. He very, very carefully touched her hand, careful to not accidentally nick her skin with a claw. He held her hand and, as the music played, they slowly began to dance together.

21


	2. 2-Insecurity

"Oh, I just know that she's found someone else!" Bron whined a little.

"What?" asked Skrol, his roommate at Picard High School.

"She did! I haven't heard from Sophra in over a week!"

"Well, uh," Skrol cast about, trying to think of what to say, "look, a good six of those days was just her sitting on a transport. And by the time she got back to Cardassia, I bet she was really space-lagged. Don't worry so much."

"I wish I had gone with her. She's gonna be there for the entire two-month holiday break and I bet there are all sorts of ex-boyfriends there who'll just casually run into her. And then they'll ask her out, but they'll be all coy about it. And Sophra's so sweet, she'll just think they're being nice," Bron said, "and then they'll bring her flowers or something, and by the time she realizes it's a date, she'll be head over heels! She'll break up with me via recorded communication, way before she comes back in late January!"

"Whoa, whoa! Time out!" Skrol called out, putting his hands in the shape of a capital T. He was careful not to let the vertical hand make contact with the palm of the other one; otherwise he'd nick himself with his own claws. He and Bron were Gorn, and they were seniors. This would be their last big school break before college or the Academy. They were spending it at the school.

"Huh?" Bron was looking out the window, roughly in the direction of Cardassia.

"You're acting like you don't trust her," Skrol said, "I mean, you got any cause to behave that way? You and Sophra have been going out for three weeks. Has she given you any reason to mistrust her?"

"No," Bron said, "but I should've gone with her!"

"You have been going out for less than a month, remember? And you and she are really different, in case you've forgotten. You can't just go ahead and invite yourself to her house. What would her parents say?"

"I – yeah, you're right. I think it'll take some prep work before her parents would ever even want to talk to me, let alone accept me," Bron sighed. "They'll be pushing her to go out with guys more like her. And not just Cardassians – I bet any guy who's warm-blooded would be preferable to me."

Skrol just shook his scaly head, unsure of what to say to comfort his friend who, he suspected, might not be wholly wrong about things. There was a door chime. "Come in."

"Hey, Baby!" It was Tr'Dorna, Skrol's Xindi Reptilian girlfriend. She kissed him, and then approached Bron. "Why the long face?"

"Uh, you talk to him," Skrol said, and then hastily added, "uh, please? I'm no good at that." He grabbed a towel and escaped into the dorm room's little bathroom.

"Well?" she asked after a few minutes.

"I, uh, I haven't heard from Sophra for days. I bet she's out with some Cardassian guy and is forgetting all about me."

"Huh," Tr'Dorna thought for a moment, "yanno, my roommate Etrina and her family are spending the intercession on Risa."

"So?"

"So I bet they're going swimming and stuff. But I _don't_ think they were kidnapped by Nausicaans or they sang some song and won _Tellarite Idol_ or they overthrew the Federation or anything."

"I'm not following you, Tr'Dorna."

"All I'm saying, Bron, is that you can only go on the facts you've got, and what's, well, what's logical, whether we're talking about how Sophra is spending break, or how Etrina is. Don't look at me like I'm a scaly Vulcan or anything! Just, you're jumping to conclusions and assuming a lot of things. Have a little faith, okay? We girls usually aren't so different from you guys. We're not out to actively try to hurt you. I think that's even true of a _warmie_ like Sophra."

Bron cringed a little when he heard that word. It was definitely a slur. "I, uh, you're probably right."

"C'mere," she said, and he hugged her. It felt good to be hugging someone.

Skrol came out of the bathroom. "Hey, you makin' time with my girl?" he asked, pretending to be annoyed.

"Your girlfriend is a really smart and sweet lady," Bron said, "I dunno what she sees in _you_."

"I'm just devilishly handsome," Skrol said, flashing white, sharp teeth. "C'mon, Baby, let's go look at the stars. Uh, don't wait up or anything." They left.

Bron made sure the door was shut tightly behind them. He then turned around, back to the door, so that if Skrol or anyone else tried to get in, he'd be ready.

He stared out the window again. "I miss you," he said aloud, "I trust you. I just miss you. And it doesn't help that I'm so damned insecure about, about us." He couldn't help it, he just felt his eyes welling up. He felt his face reddening. Even his cold blood was being warmed by hot tears.

He didn't know how long he stood there, so the sound startled him. It was a Communications chime.

It was a recorded visual message, her lovely grey face across the light years. " _Hi Bron_ ," Sophra's recording said, " _I'm sorry I didn't write earlier. When I got back home to Cardassia, I was so tired and laggy. And my little brother's learning to play a human musical instrument called a kithara. He only knows one song – it's about how to pet a zabu_ ," She made a face. " _He has played it over and over and over again. I can barely get any sleep! I miss you. Write back soon, okay? These two months will fly by, and then we'll be together again. I'm counting the days_."

Bron played the message back a few times, thinking of the perfect response. Finally, he started recording.

" _Hi, Sophra_ , …"


	3. 3-Losin' It

Oh, what has Skrol done this time?

Losin' It

"Oh Lord, kumbaya …." The last few words of an adequately-sung round dissipated in the Delta Vega night.

It was a group of six teenagers – four girls and two boys, all students at Picard High School. A PADD next to one of the girls slid into sleep mode and showed the time – _2337 hours_ – and the date – _May 9_ _th_ _of 2414_. With a clawed hand, the girl reached for her PADD. "It's getting late," she commented.

The other five, who were all sitting on large rocks around a campfire with her, nodded or grunted their agreement. "Etrina," one of the other girls said to the girl with the PADD, "I think we can stay up a little bit longer if we talk or sing quietly." The girl gestured, and a wave of her scaly arm encompassed the area, which was dotted with small two-person tents of various colors.

"Agreed, Tr'Dorna," Etrina said. She looked up at the evening sky. "It's a beautiful night."

"It's a great night for reptiles to do what comes naturally," murmured Tr'Dorna's boyfriend, Skrol. He was a Gorn, and Etrina and Tr'Dorna were Xindi Reptilian girls.

"I swear, Skrol," Tr'Dorna said, a little sharply "it's a gorgeous, romantic night, and that's _all_ you can think of?"

"Well, sure, Baby," he said, playfully nipping at her neck scales with rather frightening-looking teeth. "You are _so_ amazing."

The other couple was composed of another Gorn fellow, Bron, and his girl, a Cardassian named Sophra. "It's a great night to go for a walk," Sophra commented, glancing at Bron.

"The teachers told us not to wander off too far," reminded Ylinka, another Cardassian girl, and the sixth and last member of their little group. "Besides," she added, "this, uh, staying up late is kinda dull if you don't have anyone."

"Yeah, we, uh," Bron decided, "We should be more sensitive to Ylinka and Etrina. C'mon, Skrol, really, we _should_."

Tr'Dorna gave Skrol a look and agreed, "C'mon, we _should_."

"But Baby!" Skrol complained a little.

"Shh! Not so loud!" Ylinka warned. "We'll get into trouble, and we won't be allowed on another field trip for a while. And I really wanna go to the one in June, so I'd appreciate it if everybody could keep it down a bit."

"We could sit around the campfire some more," Bron suggested. He got up. "Here, Skrol, help me with this log." The two guys dragged a log over, and placed it carefully, and the campfire was revived. They stood and warmed themselves a bit – it was a lovely evening, but still a bit cold for the coldblooded.

Skrol muttered to himself a bit. "Damn stupid teacher chaperones."

Tr'Dorna got up and came close to him as Bron moved away. "Listen, okay?" Her voice next to Skrol was a low whisper, and he could barely hear her. "I can ask Etrina to sleep in Sophra and Ylinka's tent tonight. But you have got to _promise_ me that you'll be as silent as a church mouse – whatever _that_ is – and get back to your own tent before the sun comes up. I do _not_ wanna get caught."

"Really?" he asked, intrigued. "You'll flip your tail, Baby?"

" _If_ you're good," she replied quietly. "But remember my conditions. Now," she said in a much louder voice, "Let's sit around the campfire and tell stories or something."

"Ghost stories?" inquired Ylinka.

"Maybe we can talk about ourselves." Bron offered.

"Heh, we could play _Truth or Dare_ ," Tr'Dorna said, orangey eyes flashing in amusement.

"We need to be quiet," Sophra reminded them all. "Any really funny dares and we'll wake up half the class."

"Heh, we could make it simple," Skrol said, "and talk about our first times. You know, all about losin' it."

Bron swallowed hard. He steered Skrol toward a nearby tree, barely visible in the Delta Vegan night. "Skrol," he whispered, "some of us haven't _had_ a first time yet."

"Oh, uh, right." More loudly, as the two boys returned to the campsite, Skrol added, "Well, uh, first kisses. Let's talk about those instead, okay? Everyone here's been kissed at least one time, right?"

Everyone agreed to that – at least they all had it in common. "Who'll go first?" asked Ylinka. When no one else spoke up, she said, "Unless you want me to."

"Sure," Etrina confirmed, "and we'll go around, uh, clockwise, I guess. So you're on, Ylinka."

"Okay. Promise you won't laugh," said the Cardassian.

"Oh?" asked Skrol.

"I _mean_ it," Ylinka beseeched. "It was summer day camp. There was, well, we played _Spin the Bottle_."

"What's so amusing about that?" asked Tr'Dorna.

"I don't remember his name," Ylinka admitted. "He was Tandaran. I was, uh, I was twelve."

"Aw," Etrina commiserated. "Maybe we just won't share names, okay? So it's my turn, right? It was my first day of grade school. I was blindfolded at recess and ended up falling into the pond on school grounds. I got kissed by an Aquatic."

Ylinka started laughing. "Was it mouth to mouth resuscitation?"

"Yes!" By this time, Etrina was laughing, too. "I think she was just really surprised that somebody had fallen into the pond. Now, I know you don't remember your guy's name. But the truth is – I can't pronounce hers!"

"Oh, I guess I'm up," Bron smiled a little. "It was fourth grade, and it was one of those things where you go in a closet. She was Xyrillian."

"I remember that. Good thing you didn't hold hands," Skrol commented. "You coulda ended up preggers."

"I know," Bron chuckled a little.

"Did you like her?" asked Sophra.

"Oh, uh, a little. It was a long time ago," Bron assured her. He took her hand very carefully, mindful not to scratch her accidentally.

"I wish I could say it was romantic," Sophra told them all, "but I learned later that it was a dare. He was a human boy. I was seven."

"Mine was on a transport ride. I was maybe five," Tr'Dorna said. "He kept kicking the back of my seat. I figure he was trying to get me to turn around, and he was flirting with me. We both got up for the restroom at about the same time, and he waited for me outside."

"Had you washed your hands, Baby?" asked Skrol.

"Yes, I washed my hands!" she playfully punched him on an arm, and he pretended that it had hurt.

"Shh!" Etrina reminded them.

"Right, right," Skrol said. "Me, it's my turn?"

" _Yes_ ," Tr'Dorna confirmed.

"I know you all think the Skrolman was experienced from an early age, like maybe I was three or something, but that's not the case. I was actually fourteen."

" _Last year_ , Skrol?" Tr'Dorna asked.

"Yeah, it was last year. I, uh, I know I talk a good game. But I was really shy and scared for a long time."

" _You_?" asked Ylinka. "You must be some shape shifter, pretending to be Bron's roommate."

"You don't believe me." Skrol got up and walked away from the campsite.

Tr'Dorna followed. She caught up to him in a small clearing. "Last year's when you and I started going out."

"Yeah."

"Skrol, am I the first girl you ever kissed?"

Skrol looked away for a moment, and then up at the starry night sky. "Uh, yeah. You are. You are my, my first _everything_."

"You said you were scared and shy," she pointed out. "But I've _never_ seen you that way. You've always been, well, almost cocky."

"It's an act, Baby. Or at least it was," he admitted. "You give me confidence. And until I had you, I knew I had to kinda fake it in order to, to win you."

"Oh, Skrol."

"Are you mad at me, Baby?"

"No, 'course not," Tr'Dorna said. "But why did you bring it up? You had to have realized that this was gonna come out tonight."

"Yeah, um, yeah," Skrol cast about for something to say. "I guess I wanted you to finally know, Baby."

"Look," Tr'Dorna said, "I know that High School romances don't always work out. We might not stay together. But you, you gave me your, your innocence. That counts for a lot."

"Yeah," he agreed, "even if we don't end up together, Baby, you will always be special to me."

They kissed until they heard someone clearing his or her throat behind them. It was Bron. "Don't you ever knock?" asked Skrol.

"What, on a tree?" asked Bron. "Look, we're gonna turn in. It's just about midnight and I don't wanna press my luck and really get into trouble tonight."

"Bron?" It was Sophra. "Ylinka and Etrina have already gone back to their tents. I think the rest of us should, too."

"Oh! I'd better go talk to Etrina," Tr'Dorna said. "And, uh, you, too, Sophra." Both couples kissed and then the two girls departed, leaving only Bron and Skrol in the deepening Delta Vegan night.

" _Well_?" Bron finally asked.

"Well, what?"

"Are you ever gonna tell Tr'Dorna the truth?"

"I don't know what you mean, Bron."

"Oh, yes, you do, Skrol. I wish I knew just why you lied about this, and so brazenly. You were _not_ inexperienced when we got to Picard High School."

"What, so you know when I lost my virginity?"

"Nothing apart from what you've ever told me, or anyone else," Bron admitted. "But I know _for a fact_ that you had kissed girls _long_ before we got here. Hell, you were a part of that closet game, as I recall."

"So now you know what went on in that closet?"

"I can guess," Bron sighed in some exasperation. "Plus there's middle school. You had girlfriends and I _definitely_ remember seeing you kiss them in the hallways of Barclay Middle School."

"Bron –"

" _Don't_ , Skrol," Bron replied, a bit angrily. "Tr'Dorna is a really, really nice girl. You should come clean with her."

" _C'mon_!"

" _Tell her_. Or I will." Bron folded his scaly arms and glared at Skrol.

"You wouldn't."

" _Try me_. It's not right."

"C'mon, don't violate the Bro Code! She is gonna flip her tail for me! Telling her is just gonna totally blow that."

"And if _I_ tell her," Bron's tone was still a rather sharp one, "then it'll be even worse, and your stupid mouth might end it. Go to her tent and tell her the truth. You've got until we get up in the morning. I am _not_ kidding."

"I, uh, damn, you got me by the soft scales," Skrol admitted. "I'll do it," he declared. "But it's only under protest."

"Why are you doing this, anyway?"

"'Cause if I act all innocent and stuff, it's a sure thing! Tr'Dorna is totally flighty, and there's lots of times she won't flip her tail and she totally leaves me hanging. I mean, seriously, Bro, it _hurts_! But I figured she'd buy the innocent act, and she did! So tell me, Bron, how do I fake innocence? 'Cause I figure I could really be in if I could do _that_."

"Just go and act like a grown-up for once, Skrol."

"Oh, all right." Muttering to himself, Skrol made his way to the tent being shared by Etrina and Tr'Dorna. Etrina was still there. "You must be really eager," Etrina commented.

"I know my baby is, too," Skrol bragged. He leered at Etrina. "Once you go Gorn, Baby, you'll never go back."

"I'll keep that in mind," Etrina said, rolling her eyes and grabbing her bedroll. "Don't wait up."

After Etrina had left, Tr'Dorna came closer in order to kiss Skrol, but he held a scaly hand up. "Just a sec, Babe."

"Oh?"

"I, uh, I got something to say _I'm sorry_ for, and to tell you."

Tr'Dorna lay back on her bedroll. "I'm listening."

"Please don't get mad, Baby."


	4. 4-Truth

Prenar sat in the common area of his home, in his favorite chair, looking his daughter, Sophra's, boyfriend up and down.

The fellow was nervous, to be sure, but of course there was a lot more to it than that, for Bron was not a Cardassian at all. He was a Gorn.

Sophra and her mother, Natima, were busy in the kitchen. It was just the two men. "So," Prenar said, "what are your intentions regarding my daughter?"

"Int-intentions, sir?"

"Yes, intentions! Surely you have heard that expression before!"

"Uh, yes, yes I have, sir. My, my intentions are that, well, Sophra is a, she's a wonderful person, and, and ..." Bron gulped several times. He didn't think Prenar would strike him, but the man was clearly livid, grey scales a little raised and eyes narrowed with mistrust.

" _And_?"

"Um, um, um, sir, uh, sir, the truth is, is ..."

"What is the truth?" the Cardassian said, voice raised.

The sounds of a meal being prepared were suddenly silenced. Even Sophra's little brother was listening, and he was technically supposed to be studying in his room.

"Sir, um, uh, the truth is, sir, that, that," the Gorn suddenly straightened up. _Now or never_ , he thought to himself. "The truth is that I'm in love with your daughter. And, and that's what it probably sounds like. Those are my intentions. I, I want to marry her, sir. With, with your blessing." He barely squeaked the last two words out. " _I hope_."

Prenar stared. "You realize that you, that you cannot have marital relations without some serious surgery being done to Sophra. Or to you. Or, or both. I don't know the particulars."

"I, I know, sir. I would have all of the surgery if I could."

"And you would not be able to have children. I don't believe scientists have ever succeeded in getting Gorn and, and mammalian or at least warm-blooded DNA to commingle properly. The, the chromosomes, they don't line up."

"We could adopt, sir."

"Adopt? Our culture doesn't really do such a thing," Prenar said.

"For us, it would be the only way we could, we could hope to ever have children. So I would hope that they would be accepted. I know we would love them as much," Bron said. "I am a civil engineering student and have been promised a job after graduation. I want to build bridges, and, and bring people together."

"And what does Sophra think of all of this?"

"I, uh, I haven't told her yet, sir." Bron looked down. It was even more surreal, as if that were even possible. He felt a hand on his arm.

"Bron, I didn't realize it was so serious," Sophra said. "But yeah, I feel the same way."

"People will stare at you," Natima said. "They may call you a lot of unpleasant things. We like to think we are enlightened, but sometimes that can happen. There are harsh truths out there, you know."

"Then let them stare," Sophra said. "And let them say their horrible things. But we will teach our children that there is more to love than a look. It's what's inside that counts, and I hope that people can see that it is, it is possible to live that ideal, every day."

Prenar looked from one face to another, from green scales and reddish-orange eyes to grey scales and brown eyes. He sighed. "Natima, we may lose friends over this."

"Then perhaps we should lose them," she said. "Bron, where does your family live?"

"They're still on the home world."

"Do they know about this?" she asked.

"They don't," he admitted. "It just kind of, it slipped out."

"They should be told, you know," said Natima. "Would they consent to meeting us? After meeting Sophra, of course."

"Sure," Bron said.

"Well?" Natima asked Prenar.

"I guess we'll plan a wedding, then," he said. "And if people stare, I will thank them for, for noticing my beautiful daughter. And, and my, my fine son-in-law."

"Thank you, sir," said Bron.


	5. 5-Transported

"C'mon, baby, no one'll see."

"Stop it, Skrol."

"C'mon," Skrol murmured, breath heavy in Tr'Dorna's ear.

"Everybody is here, even our warmie classmates," she whispered back. "This field trip was popular."

"Sure, but you are so, um," he nibbled her neck. "Sit on my lap, baby." Tr'Dorna glanced around at her classmates before doing just that. The darkened transport lurched a little, and she was pressed, hard, against Skrol. She gasped a little. He was definitely ready. "Mmm, baby," he whispered, and then he reached under her skirt and got a pleasant surprise. No panties. She didn't have hair – no Xindi Reptilian ever would – it was softer scales and they all led one way. He had seen her before; it was like a freakin' landing strip to one, certain destination. Well, two, if he wanted to get technical, but he hadn't broached that just yet, and wasn't sure if that discussion would happen any time soon. Cautiously, he investigated. He had claws and, while she could take them, even down there, he wasn't about to do serious damage and really make her call out with the entire senior class of Picard High School not twenty meters away.

"So you'll, uh," Tr'Dorna breathed, "you'll keep quiet?"

"Of course, baby. A Gorn never does it and tells."

"Skrol," her voice was a little sharpened, "I mean it. I can't have you telling your pals all about what I'm like and all. I don't wanna get a reputation."

"Don't worry, baby." The transport lurched again.

"I mean, look at Bron and Sophra over there. He is totally into her, even though she's a warmie and all."

"C'mon, baby," he entreated, "just lift your tail a little bit. This'll be quick."

"Quick?"

"I'll make it up to you, baby. I will lick and bite your tail and under it until you scream."

"Really?"

"Try me, baby."

She didn't answer; she just impaled herself on him suddenly, as the transport lurched in time with their movements and they did all they could to keep quiet.


	6. 6-Freak School

_Star Trek  
_

_Freak School_

 **This is a fan written work**

The copyrights & trademarks of Star Trek are owned by  
Paramount Pictures, CBS Corporation and their licensee, Pocket Books. Any attempt to sell or rent this book should be reported to the copyright owners for their action

A Star Trek Fan Fiction By  
J. R. GERSHEN-SIEGEL

 _TrekUnited Publishing_

If you're reading this, then I guess you broke my encryption. If it's the 2400s or the 2500s then I suspect I'm still alive, and I hereby curse you. If it's later than that, well, I guess I'm dead so maybe I'll just haunt you or something.

This is an English class assignment, and it seems to be the only one so far that isn't totally lame. But if Miss T'Bek, my teacher, thinks she's gonna get me to hind this in, she's got another think coming. I'll edit it big time, and I bet all that'll be left will be a few indefinite articles. She won't get my nouns or my verbs. Maybe an adjective or two, if she's lucky.

So, I should start. It's _August 27th, 2413_. Now, I know, you're probably wondering why I'm not using a star date. Well, it's because my Mom always used the Earth date when we were all still together in Connecticut. I figure I'm just carrying on her noble tradition.

I should tell you who I am. My name is Rayna Montgomery. That's my mother's last name, 'cause my Dad's, well, it doesn't quite work in human talk. Yes, maybe you can tell already, but I'm a mutt.

Through no fault of my own, I guess, I got the worst set of genes from both sides. I have ugly cranial ridges and they look really stupid with my yellowy-red hair. Thanks to Mom for that, not! I can swipe, hard, at people, but I've got no confidence in it. So I don't swipe much, don't growl, don't eat stuff that's barely dead – _ugh_ – but I get mad easily, so I get into trouble.

When I was fourteen, I had heard one too many cherry jokes – I used to get them because of my hair color, yeah, thanks Mom – and they were all about my virginity so I ended up doing this guy just because I was so tired of having honor to defend. Then my Dad found out, and he went ballistic because I didn't wait. I mean, I totally don't see why he got so upset. It's not like I was pregnant or anything.

The guy's family ended up moving away. I don't miss him. He was a jerk.

I got into more trouble, some petty theft, that kind of thing, and my grades really took a nosedive last year, 'cause I just stopped caring, know what I mean?

And that's why they ended up sending me here. I know, I know, the _real_ name of this place is the _Archer Academy at Oberon_ , but everybody calls it the _Freak School_.

See – and if you're some archaeologist digging this up in, like, a thousand years, you should know that there are all of these species in the Federation. Before we all had Warp Drive, we just went our merry ways, but now that there's been peace for a while – _ugh_ – there's all this interspecies marriage. So kids like me are born.

I mean, it's not like we all didn't try. I tried while I was in Connecticut, but there were just too many rules. And, like I've said, I got the worst of both worlds. I'm too short and soft to be menacing, and I'm too freaky-looking to fit in, in Connecticut or anywhere else on Earth.

Let's just say – despite what my Mom used to say – I am not a pretty girl. Not for humans, and not for Klingons. I'm just a sixteen-year-old waste of time and DNA.

=/\=

 _September 18, 2413_

Sorry I haven't written in a while. I had a lot of assignments. Miss T'Bek is really riding us. It's all so useless. Not like I want to go to Starfleet Academy or any of that old BS. Not that I have anything else planned, but really, I am sixteen and I just think it stinks to even be thinking about deciding that kind of stuff.

But there is some news. We're all freaks here, all hybrids of some sort. Everybody's been teased and stuff. They make us go through these, like group therapy sessions. We all share about how isolated we all were at our old schools, how the hairy half-Tellarite girls felt during Swim class, how the half-Bynars were all mortified if they were separated for talking. You know the drill.

But, yeah, I've got news. We were in Group, and a guy who's part Tandaran, part Andorian, he was talking about how his old classmates used to throw things, trying to hit his antennae.

And I'm, you know, I'm kinda paying attention, but I'm also not, because it's not like I haven't heard this junk before, when in walks this transfer student.

And he's, you know, he has no idea what he's just walked into, and I gotta say, _girlfriend Diary_ , he is _fine_. He is easily the most gorgeous guy I have ever seen. And he seems like, well, all Vulcan, so I wonder if maybe he's lost.

But Mister Tholin, he looks at a print communicator message, and he's kinda standing there reading, and his antennae are going crazy, you know, and he realizes the guy is _supposed_ to be there. So we scootch over because our chairs are in a circle, and I make room, and Tellifa makes room on the other side and he sits next to me! So I get to lord it over Tellifa for the rest of Group, even though Mister Tholin is trying to keep us all on topic.

So the gorgeous guy's name is Stellak, and he kinda looks like most Vulcans, you know, dark straight hair, dark really smoldering eyes (You like that word _smoldering_? I read it in a book once, and it is totally _cool_ ) and he's kinda tall and he's all quiet like and I am suddenly _totally_ Klingon it seems, and I cannot stop staring and growling a little.

 _I know! Shut up!_

I ended up getting g in trouble with Mister Tholin and I had to stay after and that Targ Tellifa, she just kinda waggled her antennae at him and he just followed.

Like I said before, I am not a pretty girl.

But I am crafty.

=/\=

 _October 4, 2413_

Again, I have been doing lots of schoolwork, plus I had two detentions for growling during Group. If I get one more, my folks are gonna be called, so I'm trying to play it cool, but it's really, _really_ hard.

There's also this dance coming up. I mean, I am normally far too cool for such things, but the rumor is that Tellifa and Stellak are going together. It makes me a little sad. I might ask Lenny. He's mostly human but he's got some Trill stuck in there so he's got spots but they aren't, like, acne or nothing. I don't like him like anything more than a friend – and I will be sure to tell him so, but you never know.

If I had more Klingon in me, I guess I'd be more intimidating, but most of the time I'm just a creampuff with cranial ridges. I swear I have never told anybody that before. Group is useless, but I feel I can at least mention it here.

The school took class photos today and I got to stand next to Stellak! I almost forget to mention that. I think the photo turned our pretty well. I looked like, well, like I always look, but Stellak had his hair combed nice and he looked good. Of course neither of us smiled.

I keep wondering what he is that isn't Vulcan. Maybe he's part human? I know human-Vulcan crosses can just look all Vulcan. But they're usually a lot better adjusted than anybody who comes here to the Freak School. So he's kind of a mystery guy, in addition to being, like, _solar hot_.

=/\=

 _October 5, 2413_

The dance is tomorrow. I asked Lenny to go with me as just friends and he said yeah but he seemed really eager. I hope he doesn't, you know, like me like that. 'Cause he's just not doing it for me, know what I mean?

I got my folks on the Viewer and my Mom even suggested I wear a dress! I was like, WTF? I haven't worn a dress since I was five and I am not about to start now.

=/\=

 _October 6, 2413_

The dance is tonight! I gotta admit, I'm kinda pumped for it. Rumor has it there's gonna be beer and hard stuff if we can get it past Miss T'Bek. They're all so clueless. I gotta figure, that'll be a piece of cake. I have actually stayed out of trouble so far, and I don't think anyone's more surprised about that than I am. My grades are even better in Composition and History. I still stink at Math and Science.

=/\=

 _October 7, 2413_

Holy cow, Diary, you're not gonna believe how the dance went.

It started off, you know, pretty lame. I made sure I got there last 'cause I hate just waiting around. And Tellifa was there – I bet she thought she was really hot stuff – she had on this kinda silvery dress. I guess that's what part-Andorians like to wear, but she's so skinny, she just looked like a wire. I know I woulda been totally embarrassed. Lenny said he thought she looked slutty.

And then Stellak got there, and he did this double take when he saw her, and then he started to tell her off, saying she looked really cheap. And I figured out, he must be part-Romulan or something, if he can get all bent outta shape like that.

So she went stomping off and Lenny asked me if I would mind if he went after her and I said okay, 'cause it's not like Lenny and I are dating or anything.

But then I had, you know, nothing to do and nobody to really talk to, so I went over to the corner of the gym by the basketball hoop (the dance was held in the gym) and it was all these guys talking. It was at least half of the guys in my class, and they all said that Tellifa was all stuck up. And nobody knew who they should talk to because we're all so different.

So I guess I finally got some Klingon confidence, 'cause I said, " _I may be different, but you guys can talk to me, and not just in Group_."

And then it was so funny, like that had broke the ice or something, and they all started talking at once, and they all started complaining about how nobody understood them, and about how Group is, like, _totally_ lame. And I was all, " _Yeah, tell me something I don't know._ "

And then one of the half-Denobulan guys, I think his name is Fintal, he asked me if I wanted to dance, and I was, like, " _I'm half-Klingon, I'm supposed to ask_ _ **you.**_ " And then they all laughed and I danced with him and he was pretty good although I led. And then when we were done, they were all yelling, " _Pick me! Pick me_!" and I danced a lot and I ended up pawning off some of the guys to the girls in class who haven't ticked me off yet, like Brandi, who's part Xindi Sloth and T'Mia, who's Vulcan and I think also Xindi Insectoid.

It was lots of fun! And then you are _so_ not gonna believe this, but Stellak even came over when it was getting late. And there was, like, almost all of the other guys were gone so I asked him if he wanted to dance and he said okay!

And he only stepped on my foot once but he was really apologetic and I didn't growl at all. And when the song was done, I asked him if we could hang together some time, and he said okay.

And gets even better, 'cause he said he was sorry, that he doesn't usually show his emotions like when he yelled at Tellifa. And I said it was okay, _I have that same problem, too_. And he was like, _you get me_.

And I think I do! Which is _so_ cool.

He didn't kiss me, and that was a little disappointing, but I'm hopeful. I'm trying to hold back and not be so aggressive 'cause I know that scares some guys. And, no, I will _not_ share it with Group if anything happens.

 _That's just gross._

12


	7. 7-Report Card

_Kyra Montgomery and Krizik, house of Antaak_

 _473 Forrester Blvd._

 _Greenwich, Connecticut, Earth 06831_

 _November 10, 2413_

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery-Antaak:

Thank you for enrolling your daughter, Rayna, at the Archer Academy at Oberon. The Archer Academy is a premier educational environment for troubled teens of all possible hybrid combinations. We cater to humanoid children with parentage from planets as far away as the Delta Quadrant.

At this time, we regret that we cannot accept nonhumanoid children, or those who cannot breathe an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere. Therefore, we are unable to accommodate children with Xindi Aquatic or Tholian parentage. But we are building our sister school, the _Kirk Academy on Tellar_ , which will be able to better tend to their needs. That school should be fully constructed by 2417.

We are pleased to provide you with a full report of your child's progress, a summary report card and the menu for the week of November 12 – 18, which is a typical second quarter menu.

 _Visitors' Day/Homecoming Weekend is coming up! Be sure to bring your cameras!_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Principal Prodax_

Progress Report English

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery-Antaak:

It has been my pleasure to have your daughter, Rayna, in my _English_ class this quarter. Her progress has been fascinating.

When the school year began, she was a defensive, somewhat intractable child, barely doing any of her assigned work. And now, at the end of the quarter, I am finding that I am not missing anything from her.

Her report on _The Scarlet Letter_ was most illuminating and deserved an _A_ , but she did take certain liberties with the classic story, including inventing a rather steamy scene that is not in the original Nathaniel Hawthorne novel. As a result, I was forced to give her a _B_ on that assignment, although I assure you that she knew the material.

Creative writing assignments have been a much stronger suit for her, and her story about anti-Klingon prejudice in Connecticut proved moving to my non-Vulcan students. I have taken the liberty of submitting it for the _Corwin Prize in Young Adult Literature_ and ask that you keep this matter a secret from your daughter. I would like for it to be a pleasant surprise for her if she places in the competition.

One matter is the diary project that was assigned at the start of the school year. She is clearly working hard on the project, but has turned nearly nothing in. While I understand a teenaged girl's need for a private place to express her innermost thoughts, I do ask that _something_ be turned in. Perhaps a word from either of you will prompt her to turn in these assignments.

On a somewhat related note, it appears that she has grown about _four cm_ and may need some new clothes. We, of course, provide properly-sized uniforms, but you might wish to provide her with some larger weekend clothing options.

Thank you for allowing me to educate such a fascinating student.

Pedagogically,

Miss T'Bek

History and Group

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery-Antaak:

Now, at the start of the quarter, I am happy to report on the progress of your daughter, Rayna. As you are aware, I teach _History_ and am also the facilitator for the _Group Therapy_ sessions.

Rayna has progressed well. Her initially suspicious nature has given way to somewhat more openness as she has gotten to know her fellow students. In _Group_ , she has recently shared an experience about being the only hybrid at a summer day camp in the Connecticut Valley. Miss T'Bek and I have encouraged Rayna to record this experience, and my understanding is that her work has been secretly submitted for a major prize, which must be thrilling for you.

Rayna has had something of a personality conflict with a fellow student named Tellifa. Tellifa is an Andorian-Xyrillian hybrid, and the conflict has been somewhat troubling for her. It has come to my attention that much of the sources of the friction are the presence of two boys in class – Leonard Takei, who is a Trill-human hybrid, and Stellak, who is a Vulcan-Romulan cross.

As you can imagine, this is a rather classic case of teenaged romantic jealousies and crushes – the kind that we see all the time, even with non-hybrid teens. My only concern is Rayna's obvious physical superiority over Tellifa. There has been some growling, and Rayna has been properly disciplined as a result. Teenaged romances come and go – it is my hope that the two girls will eventually bond over their shared experiences as hybrids. This is, as you are well aware, one of the stated missions of the Archer Academy at Oberon.

And now for my impressions of Rayna as a _History_ student. She has shown marked improvement. Her initial somewhat defensive stance has been replaced by an eagerness to hand in her work, although she does not always check her facts as thoroughly as she should. Her recent report on the American Civil War was very good, but she seems to have gotten Generals Sherman, Lee and Meade a bit mixed up.

I believe that her newly-found eagerness to get her _History_ assignments completed is related to her issues in _Group_. When confronted with the possibility of losing her place in _Group_ – which was in a seat between the two aforementioned boys – she became much more interested in completing her assignments. While I do not normally condone such forms of motivation, I also believe that any form of effective motivation is good. This form seems to work for this student, but teenaged hearts are notoriously fickle, and so it remains to be seen whether this technique will continue to be effective as the second quarter's assignments begin to come due.

Thank you for allowing me to be a part of the education of this most interesting student.

Sincerely,

Mister Kilva Tholin

Mathematics

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery-Antaak:

It has been my privilege to teach your daughter, Rayna, _Trigonometry_ this quarter. However, her progress remains slow.

Rayna seems to be challenged by many of the concepts that were covered in _Algebra_ and _Geometry_. Some remedial work will be required. I have a few tutors, fine students who would be willing to discreetly help a rather prideful student. One of these students, Stellak, is already taking _Advanced Calculus_ and so is my top choice. When I mentioned a tutor to her, Rayna was rather disappointed, but when I specified that her tutor was to be Stellak, her demeanor considerably brightened.

Her best area is in coordinate plotting; she is very precise and follows those directions very well. I understand that she has a bit of an artistic bent, and that shows in her work in this area.

With tutoring, I look forward to more improvements in this area.

Thank you again.

Very Truly Yours, 

Dennis Latrelle

Science

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery-Antaak:

As you know, I am your daughter, Rayna's, _Science_ teacher here at the Archer Academy at Oberon. At the close of the first quarter, it is my duty to inform you that, for the most part, she is not succeeding.

At the start of the quarter, she would rarely hand in assignments and, even if she did, they were never on time. I am pleased to report that that much, at least, has changed. She _has_ been handing in her assignments, and her punctuality with them has greatly improved.

I have given her occasional private pop quizzes, and she appears to be reading the material, although not fully comprehending it. A more pressing issue, unfortunately, is _Lab_. In _Chemistry_ , _Lab_ counts for _25%_ of a student's final grade, and her work in this particular area has not been up to par. I understand from Mr. Tholin that a portion of the difficulty may have to do with conflicts with her _Lab_ partner, an Andorian-Xyrillian hybrid girl named Tellifa.

I strongly suggest that your daughter be placed in a remedial _Science_ program, for a few hours per day after class. With proper guidance, we should be able to get her back up to speed by the end of the next quarter. Kindly allow me to know how you wish to proceed in this matter.

Yours, etc.,

Doctor Fetlaff

Electives and Gym

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery-Antaak:

I've been very happy to teach your daughter, Rayna, this first quarter. As you are aware, I teach the art-related _Elective Units_ and _Gym_. This quarter, her chosen elective was _Drawing and Painting_.

Rayna is a decent visual artist, with a good sense of color, contrast, line and perspective. Her study of a still life composed of a metal cafeteria pitcher, an apple, a folded dark blue napkin and a yellow rose was particularly good. She seems to enjoy realism, but also focuses a lot of stippling and dotting – I see a bit of a pointillistic influence in her works. Has she, perhaps, studied some of Georges Seurat's works?

As for _Gym_ classes, she has some issues with coordination, and a unit on _Modern Dance_ was not a good choice for her. She has grown a few centimeters and still seems to be getting used to that. I recommend a unit in ice hockey, which will be available during the third quarter. In the meantime, I have suggested, and she has accepted, a second quarter unit of rugby. She has proven to be a quick study.

Again, it has been my pleasure to teach her in the first quarter. For this quarter's elective class, she has chosen _Conversational Vulcan_ , which is taught by Miss T'Bek. But I hope to have Rayna back for an art elective in the third quarter.

Sincerely Yours,

Miss Amy Ryan

Summary Report Card English

 _B+_ – Good progress has been seen. Student is capable of _A_ -level work if she remains focused on not embroidering new scenes for the fiction she has read and hands in all assignments.

History

 _B_ – Good grasp of the material for the most part. Student needs to pay more attention to details in order to raise this grade to an _A_.

Mathematics

 _C_ – Better understanding of the material is necessary to move this student above the level of mediocre. Tutoring should help.

Science

 _D_ – Student needs extensive remedial work and is barely passing.

Electives

 _A_ – Student has an excellent grasp of major artistic concepts.

Gym

 _Pass_ – Student attends all classes and participates with enthusiasm if not grace.

Group

 _Pass_ – Student has attended all sessions and has participated, albeit reluctantly. Incidences of growling appear to have lessened.

Menu for the Week of: November 12 – 18, 2413

 **Day of the week**

 **Breakfast**

 **Lunch**

 **Lunch Sides (choice of 2)**

 **Dinner**

 **Snack**

 _Sunday_

Egg & Cheese Wrap  
Plain Biscuit  
Bagel – plain or loaded  
Cinnamon Roll  
Yogurt

Char grilled T-bone steak  
Mild chickpea and cherry tomato curry with minted yogurt and poppadums  
Fried eggs, grilled tomatoes  
Creamed Potatoes

N/A

Sweet potato, leek and feta frittata  
Wok tossed Singapore noodles with tofu and Chinese greens  
Char grilled T-bone steak  
Roast Potatoes  
Carrots & Fresh Oskoid  
Salad Bar

Assorted Hot & Cold Desserts  
Fresh Fruit from Assorted Star Systems

 _Monday_

Egg & Cheese Croissant Sandwich  
Plain croissant  
Orange Juice  
Milk

Baked Cheese Sticks w/Marinara Sauce  
Targ & Bean Burrito  
Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich (2)  
Yogurt Snack

French Fries  
Plomeek Broth  
Golden Corn  
Orange Quarters/Kiwi  
Fruit Cocktail w/Cherry Garnish

Live Gagh & Mint Sauce  
Corn cakes with your choice of tomato and avocado salsa  
Thick country style sausages with mashed potatoes, gravy and caramelized onions  
Roast Potatoes  
Carrots & Fresh Cauliflower with a mild cheese sauce  
Salad Bar

Assorted Hot & Cold Desserts  
Fresh Fruit from Assorted Star Systems

 _Menu, continued:_

 **Day of the week**

 **Breakfast**

 **Lunch**

 **Lunch Sides (choice of 2)**

 **Dinner**

 **Snack**

 _Tuesday_

Sausage & Egg on English muffin  
Plain English muffin  
Orange Juice  
Milk

Baked Krada Tenders w/Brown Rice  
Andorian Redbat Egg Roll w/Brown Rice  
Fairfax Sliders (2) on Twister Rolls  
Hot Racht & Cheese  
Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich (2)  
Yogurt Snack

Steamed Katterpod beans  
Lokar beans & Snow Peas w/ Dip  
Pears w/Cherry Garnish  
Cantaloupe w/Strawberries

Roast Chicken  
Krada schnitzel with honey mustard gravy  
Gagh surprise  
Vegetable lasagna  
Roast Potatoes  
Carrots & Fresh Rulot seeds  
Salad Bar

Assorted Hot & Cold Desserts  
Fresh Fruit from Assorted Star Systems

 _Wednesday_

Ham & Cheese Croissant Sandwich  
Plain croissant  
Apple Juice  
Milk

Racht on Bun (2)  
Hamburger on Bun  
Gagh on Bun  
Grilled Cheese Sandwich  
Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich (2)  
Yogurt Snack

French Fries  
Tossed Salad w/Green Pepper  
Peach Crisp  
Banana

Spaghetti bolognaise with garlic bread and salad  
Roast Targ & Yorkshire Pudding  
Char grilled vegetable burgers with the works  
Creamed Potatoes  
Carrots & Fresh Cauliflower with a mild cheese sauce  
Salad Bar

Assorted Hot & Cold Desserts  
Fresh Fruit from Assorted Star Systems

 _Menu, continued:_

 **Day of the week**

 **Breakfast**

 **Lunch**

 **Lunch Sides (choice of 2)**

 **Dinner**

 **Snack**

 _Thursday_

Krada Leg Biscuit  
Plain biscuit  
Orange Juice  
Milk

Soft Taco on Flatbread w/Shredded Cheese (vegan option available)  
Baked Krada Fillet on Bun  
Hummus Snack  
Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich (2)  
Yogurt Snack

Baked Smiley Potatoes  
Refried Beans  
Lettuce, Tomato  
Pineapple w/Cherry Garnish  
Fresh Apple Slices

Roast Chicken & Stuffing  
Roast rump of Targ  
Wok tossed Asian vegetables with marinated Pok Tar and toasted cashews  
Brown rice  
Carrots & Fresh Oskoid  
Salad Bar

Assorted Hot & Cold Desserts  
Fresh Fruit from Assorted Star Systems

 _Friday_

Ham, Egg & Cheese on English muffin  
Pok Tar scramble  
Apple Juice  
Milk

Baked Spicy Krada on Bun  
Cheese Quesadilla  
Baked Fish Fillet on Bun  
Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich (2)  
Yogurt Snack

Baked Seasoned Potato Wedges  
Green Beans  
Celery & Carrots w/Dip  
Peaches  
Natural Frozen Fruit Bar

Vegetable Nut Roast  
Shepherd's pie with a rough potato mash crust, featuring live gagh  
Fish and chip night – takeout style with tartar sauce or lemon, malt vinegar on the side  
French-fried potatoes  
Carrots & Fresh Rulot seeds  
Salad Bar

Ice creams with sauces  
Fresh Fruit from Assorted Star Systems

 _Menu, continued:_

 **Day of the week**

 **Breakfast**

 **Lunch**

 **Lunch Sides (choice of 2)**

 **Dinner**

 **Snack**

 _Saturday_

Cereal  
French toast Sticks  
Toast/Cinnamon Toast  
Pancakes (3)  
Hard Cooked Eggs  
Pancakes (2) & Sausage

Vegetable Risotto  
Thai sweet chili Krada with noodles

N/A

Steak fresh off the BBQ with Diane sauce  
Lentil and bean curry with mini pappadums  
Roast Chicken with lemon and thyme  
Roast Potatoes  
Carrots & Fresh Lokar beans with a mild cheese sauce  
Salad Bar

S'mores  
Fresh Fruit from Assorted Star Systems


	8. 8-D'Storlin

My name is D'Storlin, but my friends call me Dusty. At least, that's what I'd have them call me.

If I had any friends, that is.

I got sent here, to the Archer Academy at Oberon; it was a condition of my probation. I gotta attend classes and this one especially, Group Therapy. It feels weird talking about it all. My parents are so ashamed. And I admit I am, too. Everybody calls this the Freak School, the place where parents send their hybrid kids, like me, when they can't handle them any longer.

It all started when we were in Biology class. I kept to myself. All the other kids were human, all the way human, or at least they hid it well if they were something else. But it was Lab and I had to have a partner. They put me with John something or other, this guy who was, like, captain of the football team and all of that other junk. And he hated me from the very beginning, and I hated him, so, well, I guess we were kinda even.

And then we got down to dissecting stuff. It was okay when we dissected the earthworm and the frog. We actually worked together and we were almost getting along. But then we got to this baby crocodile. And like all the others, it was preserved in formaldehyde, and it totally reeked. Well, I look at it, and all I can think is – this was someone's little one.

I see the egg tooth, you know, the one you use to get outta the shell? I don't remember coming out of the shell, of course, but I remember seeing my little sister – she and I weren't in the same clutch. I remember seeing her struggle and struggle but she finally made it and my parents and my clutch brothers and sisters, we all cheered. And then we had hamburgers, I remember. Funny, the things you remember.

And this preserved baby croc, she also, I am sure, carefully and painstakingly crunched out of her shell, and then took the pieces in her mouth or her claws like I remember my sister did, and tossed the pieces to the side and walked out on her own, free and clear. It's your first taste of independence, and there's just nothing like it. It's incredible. But for this little croc, it was straight into however they killed her for a lab experiment. Maybe it was gas of some sort. How horrible, like the Nazis a good five hundred years ago on Earth.

And I gotta say, I was a little ashamed of my Dad's side then, the human side of things, and I felt more for Mom's side, the Xindi Reptilian bit. And then it got worse, 'cause John, he was so nasty. He grabbed the baby croc, even though she was already sliced open, and waved her around and said she was my Prom date. And they were all laughing, like it was some big joke, but I know they're dissecting cats this week so maybe it's not so much of a joke any more. But I'm not there to see them dissecting cats.

It's because of how angry I got. I swiped my claws at John's face. It was all over in a few seconds, and he was bleeding. They said at my hearing that John will be able to see with a prosthetic. I didn't mean to permanently hurt him. I just got so mad! That baby croc was somebody's little one. She was dead, yes, but she didn't deserve to be desecrated like that.

So here I am a freak among the freaks. I hate myself and what I have done. I wouldn't blame John if never forgave me.


	9. 9-Alien Encounter

The ancient lift shuddered to a stop. The lights flickered, then went out. Between floors. Damn.

Keith opened his Communicator. "Lift Fourteen is stuck."

There was chittering until he engaged the Universal Translator. "I called Maintenance. This may take a while. I'm Keith Paris."

" _The One Who Fires a Weapon Very Fast_ " came the reply.

"Huh?"

"That is my name, human."

"Oh. Been to Earth before?"

"2153."

"When the Xindi weapon was deployed?"

"Yes. It was wrong, what we did."

"Thanks for saying that, uh, ' _Fast_."

The lights came back on and Keith realized he'd been talking to an Insectoid.


	10. 10-Milk

He sat in the ship's mess, with a bottle of good Scotch. He knew that his date did not drink alcohol, but he figured, yanno, it's not a date without a little social lubricant.

Plus, he was a little nervous.

They were friends and shipmates, but he had never, ever asked out anyone on board the _NCC-1701_. Never! He'd always been good ole, reliable Scotty. It's like no one ever thought of him as having any sort of, well, _needs_. He sighed. They thought of him as a eunuch in a tunic.

But she was a newer crew member, and she was different. She was always so pleasant. And she would smile when she saw him. He didn't kid himself; she probably smiled at most of the people she saw aboard the _Enterprise._ But when she smiled at him, he felt special, and appreciated.

And then he had suggested getting a drink after shift. She had responded in the affirmative, and so quickly! That gave him hope. Perhaps she really _was_ interested after all.

Other crew members filtered in and out. McCoy waved but didn't join him; he just grabbed a cup of coffee and left, probably to return to Sick Bay. Nurse Chapel was chatting with some friends and didn't see him. Spock got a bowl of replicated Plomeek broth but had it placed in a to-go container and departed, probably to investigate some anomaly or some such. Even Kirk showed briefly, but it was to chat up some Yeoman who gave him the brush-off.

And then.

Oh, excellent!

She was out of uniform, looking very fine indeed. She had great legs, and was showing them off.

He thought of touch - _no, keep it cool, Monty_ , he said to himself. _Don't show you're overly eager. Don't blow this._

He got up quickly and pulled out a chair for her. They greeted each other and he realized, dumbly, he was still standing up. "Can I get ya a drink, lass?"

She nodded and he went to the Replicator and got her a glass of cold milk. He placed it in front of her and a little of it sloshed on his fingers. He was about to wipe them off on a napkin when she took his hand. "Allow me," she looked at him with mystical eyes and smiled as she licked the milk off his hand.

"Uh, M'Ress!" he squeaked out. Her tongue was a little sandpapery but that did not matter. He thought of her mouth elsewhere and his breathing grew faster.

"Yes?" she purred.

"I canna tell ya how happy I am that you agreed to go out with me."


	11. 11-The Black Widow

The Klingon escape pod was picked up by the _Enterprise_ 's grappler and brought into the launch bay.

Malcolm Reed was there to greet it. "Sir," he said, upon seeing Captain Archer, "are you all right?"

"I am now," Jonathan Archer said, "anything interesting happen while I was, er, out? What does T'Pol say?"

Malcolm shifted from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable. "I, sir, I …."

"What is it you're not telling me?" The captain was instantly concerned.

"Sir, perhaps you should sit down."

"What?" The concern shifted to fear, as all he could blurt out was a one syllable question.

Malcolm steered the captain to the mess hall which, fortunately, was unoccupied. "Sir, I don't know how to tell you this."

The captain looked him in the eye. "Just, just spit it out."

"Sir, Travis is dead. And so is Crewman Delacroix. And Crewman Haddon is, well, she's been permanently injured."

"My God, what did T'Pol do about this? What happened?"

"Sir, T'Pol is in custody."

"What?" That same one syllable question. Jonathan Archer was suddenly glad that he was sitting down. "How?"

"We thought we'd have a debriefing, sir, in the, in the Observation Lounge."

"Now?"

"Yes, now, sir."

=/\=

Hoshi and Tripp were there, waiting for them. Hoshi looked stricken. Tripp seemed to be far away. "Who's on the Bridge?" Jonathan asked.

"MacKenzie is in command," Tripp said. "Sloane is at Communications, Bernstein is at Tactical, Miller is at the Science station and, and," he paused for a moment, "and Harris is piloting. Jenny Crossman is in Engineering."

"Good," said Captain Archer. The second and night shift mix was of the most competent junior people on the ship. "What about Phlox?"

"I'll get him on communications," Hoshi said, almost mechanically. It was something to do, so she set about doing it. The console had slid into sleep mode, and it showed the date – _March the twenty-first of 2153_.

"He, uh, my understanding is that he cannot leave Crewman Haddon right now," Malcolm explained.

"Do you know what her injuries are?"

Malcolm nodded, affected. "She was, sir, she was blinded in her, in her left eye." He shut his own eyes tightly for a second, thinking of what he had seen, and could not get out of his head, could not _unsee_.

Jonathan found himself revisiting an old nervous habit from his childhood. He tapped his left wrist, first with one finger, then with two, then three and then four. Over and over again.

The doctor's face appeared on the screen in the Observation Lounge. "Welcome back, Captain. I wish the circumstances were better."

"As do I," said the captain, "what can you tell me?"

"I can tell you from the beginning," said the Denobulan. "A few days ago, when you were abducted by the Tellarites, Lieutenant Reed ordered everyone up from the planet's surface. T'Pol and I were affected by a microbe. And so we went into decon."

"Was anyone else in decon with you?" asked Jonathan, trying to figure out how Delacroix and Mayweather had died, and how Haddon had been hurt. So far, the pieces didn't fit.

"No," said the doctor. "We were alone. The, the microbe, it affected her systems. She," he sighed, "she entered, apparently prematurely, into a state of what she referred to as _pon farr_."

"What's that?" asked Jonathan.

"It's apparently the Vulcan mating cycle," said Phlox.

"Did you know about this? Did anyone?" asked the captain. Everyone in the room shook their heads, as did the doctor.

"It is apparently, let's just say, it's a rather strong drive. And that is putting it mildly. She began to caress me in a sexual manner," said Phlox. "At first, I refused her advances, but she is a very physically powerful person. I am ashamed to say that I succumbed." He looked away.

The captain swallowed hard. "Go on," he squeaked out.

"It was apparently not enough," Phlox admitted. "She managed to disable the locking mechanism on the decontamination chamber. Security was called."

"I went with a team," Malcolm said, picking up the thread of the narrative, "It was myself, Crewman Shapiro, Crewman Delacroix and Crewman Haddon. At first, we attempted to reason with her. Recognize, because of the presence of the microbe, we were wearing pressure suits."

"Understood," said the captain.

"She came onto me as well," Malcolm said, "attempting to touch me through the suit, even. Delacroix approached her and she became enraged. She, uh, she referred to him as _an inferior specimen_. That's when she attacked."

"Attacked?"

"She snapped his neck," Malcolm said. Hoshi cringed. He continued. "She also put her hands together and hit the side of Crewman Haddon's helmet. This caused it to shatter, and there were some fragments that apparently lodged into Haddon's eye."

"And then what happened?"

"I shot at T'Pol. But I missed. Sir, I missed. If I had not, God, Travis would be alive."

"Lieutenant, don't, don't do this to yourself."

"Sir, I just took the one shot, for I could see that Haddon was in distress. Between the two of them, I made the judgment call, and I contacted Sick Bay so that she could be treated. Shapiro had already taken off after T'Pol. And then once Crewman Miller arrived, I called for reinforcements and ran after Shapiro and T'Pol. We had no idea she was going to C deck."

Hoshi just started to cry. Tripp put an arm around her.

"Travis was apparently in his quarters," Malcolm said, "And, he, well, Doctor, I think you can explain this part better than I."

"Right," Phlox said, "Ensign Mayweather was evidently also approached by T'Pol. She entered and locked the door to his quarters, and was successful in persuading him to attempt to, to fulfill her needs. The process, combined with the microbe, killed him."

"Where is his body?" Captain Archer asked.

"In Sick Bay."

"Who's guarding T'Pol?"

"Crewman Shapiro," said Malcolm. "We were able, uh, afterwards, to stun her. Shapiro and I got her into the Brig and I left him there. He has been instructed to ignore her pleas. I think, after what he saw, he can do this without any trouble."

"The microbe mutated after the Subcommander and Ensign Mayweather engaged in coitus," said Phlox. "It does not pose any further threat to the crew."

"And the Subcommander?" asked Jonathan.

"She remains affected. This _pon farr_ has not ended," said Phlox. "I have been monitoring her vital signs, and they are erratic."

"In what way?"

"Her hormonal and endocrine levels are dangerously high. I suspect that coitus helps with that, but apparently with a non-Vulcan, it's just not enough."

"I'm going to the Brig," Archer said, "Malcolm, you're with me. Tripp, well, you get the big chair."

"Yes, sir." Tucker replied.

=/\=

"At ease, Crewman," Malcolm said to Ethan Shapiro as they approached.

"How is she?" asked the captain.

"She's pounded away at the walls for quite a while now, sir, and I can hear her yelling, but it's muffled. She complained of being hot so the environmental controls are turned down all the way in there."

"Understood." Jonathan hit the wall panel. "Subcommander."

"I … you …" she said, panting and gasping, " _Get in here, Jonathan_." T'Pol was naked and sweating, despite the cold.

The captain was nonplussed. She never called him that. "Subcommander, how can we help you?"

" _By getting in here_!"

"Subcommander," said Malcolm, "that's not going to happen."

"Both of you," she moaned, "at the same time. You humans, it's not enough. But maybe two of you, _maybe that'll work_. Get in here! _Now_!"

"T'Pol," Jonathan said, "it is not going to happen. Travis is dead. Do you remember?"

"You don't understand! If I don't mate, _I'll die_!"

"What?" asked the captain, again falling back on the one syllable question.

"It's the _plak tow_! The _blood fever_!"

"The what?" asked Malcolm.

"The … the blood fever, it comes from, from a bond. Without satisfying that, that bond, a Vulcan will die at _pon farr_."

"And you had this bond with Travis?" Jonathan asked.

" _I don't know_!" she yelled, weepy, her raw emotions turning on a dime.

"Subcommander," said Malcolm, "did you have this bond with the doctor?"

" _I … don't … know_!" she yelled again.

"Do you know what happened?" asked Jonathan.

"It was decon," she said, beginning to speak more and more rapidly, "and I begged the doctor and finally he, he gave in! But it was too quick! It didn't work! I had to get out! I, I left and you, you rejected me, Malcolm," she began to cry again.

Malcolm looked at the captain and shook his head a little.

"And then what?" Jonathan asked.

"I had to, to find a, an acceptable physical specimen. Travis was in his quarters. He was easy to, to make aroused. He had on few articles of, of clothing."

"And?" pressed the captain.

"And he was, his, his, it was not enough. And he, he stopped moving. Then you came back," she said, suddenly seemingly calmer, "Malcolm, you came back and I know you wanted me, and you brought Ethan with you, but you shot me! And then I woke up in here!"

"Do you know that Travis is dead?" asked the captain.

In response, T'Pol just began to wail incoherently.

Captain Archer hit the wall panel again in order to break the communications link. T'Pol could still be heard, but her cries were somewhat muffled. The captain turned to Malcolm and said, "I don't know if she understands what we'll be charging her with. Do you think she'll understand her rights at all?"

"I can't tell, sir," Malcolm said, "it seems almost like temporary insanity. She is – you know this; she is a compelling woman. It was; I have to say, it was tempting for about a split second. But I hesitated. And sir, if I had not hesitated, it would be me in a makeshift morgue, and not Travis. And if I had not missed, he would not be in there."

"Lieutenant, listen to me," the captain said, "I realize this was an extraordinary situation. I, I need to go to Sick Bay, see Crewman Haddon, and see Travis's, well, his corpse. I need to, I think, do those things, as right now this still feels unreal. Keep a guard on her, day and night, no matter what she says or does. We'll go to Vulcan. Maybe we can get some answers, and they can, they can handle this. And then I guess we'll go to Earth, and there will be a trial or, or something. I don't know. I just don't know."

"Right, sir." As the captain began to depart, Malcolm said, "Crewman Shapiro, you will keep this watch. The next one will go to Crewman Hamidi for the night watch. Then in the morning it will be Crewman Reilly. No one is to let her out. No one is to speak to or to otherwise engage her save for providing her meals, and only then through the slot. Let me know if there are any problems with this schedule."

"Yes, sir."

=/\=

In Sick Bay, Phlox was grim as the captain entered. "Crewman Haddon is awake."

"Got it." Jonathan parted a curtain to look at the young crewman. She had a huge bandage over the left side of her face. "How are you feeling, Deborah?"

"Pretty awful," she said, "and not just about, well, this." She vaguely gestured in the direction of her face. "I just, you know, I went into space because I figured, even being in Security, that we would make friends with most species. I mean, we're friends with Vulcans, right? I never thought I would be hurt by, by a Vulcan."

"I can't say I thought this would happen, either."

"It's funny, a little," Deborah said, "but I have – _had_ – the biggest crush on you. I was afraid to talk to you. But I was hopeful, yanno? And now, that there is no hope, I have no problem talking to you."

He looked down. "I don't really know what to say to that."

"It's probably just the painkillers talking, sir," she said, voice a little roughened with fatigue.

"Get some rest," he said, "and don't make me make that an order, okay?"

"Okay, sir. Sir? Will I have any sort of a career after, after this?"

"One step at a time, Crewman."

He parted the curtain and walked back into the middle of Sick Bay. "I need to see Mayweather."

"Here," said Phlox, parting a different curtain.

The body was under a sheet. "Captain, I must warn you, this is not a pleasant sight."

Jonathan peeked anyway. Travis's bottom lip was rent in two. His upper body was covered in bruises. "I take it this isn't the worst of it."

Phlox nodded. "I would not recommend an inspection of the lower half of the Ensign's body."

"I know I'll have to look at some point in time. But for now, I'll read your report," Captain Archer said, turning away. "I'll, uh, I'll go contact Starfleet."

"Very well, Captain."

=/\=

In his Ready Room, the captain hesitated for a moment, and then opened the door so as to look at the Bridge. "Crewman Sloane, where's Ensign Sato?"

"Sir, Commander Tucker suggested that she take the rest of the day off," said Sandra Sloane, "she's pretty affected."

"Understood. I need to contact Admiral Forrest."

"Right away," she said, "I'll contact you when I've got him."

"Thank you." He walked back into his Ready Room. Porthos got up and came over. He petted the dog for a second. "This changes everything," he whispered.

There was a chime. "I've got the Admiral," said Sandra.

"Go ahead," replied the captain.

"Jonathan, what's the trouble?" asked Admiral Forrest.

Jonathan sighed. "Do you know anything about a Vulcan, uh, situation called _pon farr_?"

" _Pon farr_?"

"It's apparently got to do with their mating," said the captain, "It's, God, it's violent."

"Violent?"

"Yes," the captain said, "I have two dead crew members, and one with permanent disfiguring injuries. And T'Pol is in the Brig and claims she'll die in a week if she doesn't, God, if she's doesn't, well, take care of business."

"I'll contact Soval."

"And tell him what? That T'Pol snapped the neck of one crew member and killed the other with, with, oh, you don't wanna know."

"Jonathan, we had no idea. If we had known, we never would have agreed to send a Vulcan into space with you," said Admiral Forrest.

"And then we never could've gone," said Captain Archer. "It was a _Catch-22_ , you know. They had us," he laughed bitterly for a second, "by the short hairs. We're coming back to Earth, but first we're going to Vulcan. T'Pol, well, she needs, I guess I know what she needs, but there's no one here who's really qualified to give it to her, I'm thinking. And once, once the deed is done, we need to get her to Earth in order to face charges."

"I can have a Vulcan ship rendezvous with you in, uh, six days," Forrest said, "maybe seven."

"That may be too late," said Jonathan. "It certainly is for Travis. Contact the _Horizon_ , please, just, try to find them. His family needs to know. Archer out."

=/\=

The familiar dusky orb of Vulcan was visible just outside the Ready Room window. The display on Jonathan's desktop scrolled past the time to the date – _March thirtieth, 2153_. "Computer, dictation mode," he said, sighing. The cursor changed from blue to fuchsia, indicating that the system was ready.

" _Captain's star log, March thirtieth, 2153. It is with a heavy heart that I am resigning my commission as Captain of the NX-01. It's just too difficult to go on. My First Officer has died in custody. We were unable to get her to her people in time. And I can't risk another Vulcan crew member going through the same thing."_

He sipped some water before continuing. " _Before departing, I have some business to attend to. I recommend that Charles Tucker III be promoted to Captain, and that Malcolm Reed be promoted to First Officer. Mister Reed will undoubtedly protest, and claim unreadiness. There is, I understand, a Military Assault Command Operations unit in Atlanta. General Casey informs me that a Major Jay Hayes is a sharpshooter and could give Reed a refresher course in marksmanship. I recommend that Reed take that course once the ship returns to Earth. Ensign Aidan MacKenzie is hereby promoted to Lieutenant and will be the Armory Officer. Christian Harris is promoted to Ensign and will make a fine full-time pilot_."

He swallowed once before going on. " _I do hereby posthumously promote Travis Mayweather to Lieutenant, and Brian Delacroix to Ensign. Crewman Deborah Haddon should be placed on indefinite leave, but with full pay. I will recommend her, without reservation, to any position she so chooses, in or outside of Starfleet. She and Delacroix are also hereby given the Distinguished Service Medal. I further recommend that Ensign Hoshi Sato receive a thorough psychiatric evaluation as these events appear to have severely traumatized her."_

He pinched the bridge of his nose before finishing. " _If we ever go into space with Vulcans again, we'd better pair them up. Because you don't want to know what the exact condition of Mayweather's body was, and what truly happened. We probably won't really know, but we can conjecture. And I think that's worse. We are, perhaps, fortunate in some small way that the damage was not more extensive. My Armory Officer is already wracked with guilt, as am I. We should have known. We should have known. I blame the Vulcan High Command for its squeamishness and its prudishness about sex, for not telling us that this sort of thing could happen. I am done here, and I hope that Erika Hernandez will have an easier time out in space than I did_."

He took a deep breath. "Computer, end dictation."


End file.
